All Night
by stoneygem
Summary: Just another of those Wango stories done with a song that I think just had to be added, if Garry Marshall had made the movie it should have been.


A/N: Oooy...checking out my diverse fanfic-places, I realized that I had not posted this story here. So, I guess, it is time I did so.

Disclaimer: You all know that Clarisse and Joseph are my confidants...that however means I don't own them. Oh and quite obviously, i don't own the song either.  
This story is dedicated to the great **Posh**, who is also sort of responsible for this story, because I started writing it, when I went back from visiting her and had this song on my mp3-player.

**All Night**

Clarisse Renaldi was having a moment.

It was odd, really. The usually cool and collected – some would say aloof – queen would have never liked to refer to herself as having a moment. Yet, tonight she had.

All due to a few short minutes of a lived-out fantasy.

"You've been wearing black for too long." Joseph had said, opening her perception to life, to brightness again.

And then he had held out his hand invitingly, and Clarisse had put hers into his and in this moment, at this effortless contact of their bodies, her life was a kaleidoscope of colours again.

At first she had thought it was simply indulging a friend, but with the first step taken, Clarisse realized that it was so much more than this. With the first step taken, she had suddenly been filled with such a strong want. A want that had never been so intense before, if she had ever felt like this.

It had been only a few short minutes, but she could have continued for hours. Even now, hours later, she could still return and dance with him like that again.

She could have danced all night. In his arms.

It wouldn't have mattered what music they'd shared: Slow fox, Waltz, Tango, more of the "Wango" as Mia had barbarically termed it, even Polka. It wouldn't have mattered. Not to her. Not to him either, if the expression in Joseph's eyes was any indication.

She should really go to bed. It was late as it was. Tomorrow would be another full day of governing, paperwork and princess lessons. Her schedule would certainly be tight. But Clarisse couldn't settle down. She was floating on air. No, she was flying. It felt, as if she only needed to spread her arms, start to whirl and she would leave the ground and fly – free, happy and giddy.

She didn't even know what it was. They had danced before, both in public and in private. It had never been like this. Never this sudden pounding of her heart, this tingling of her body, the heat in his gaze which she had daringly reciprocated. Somehow, she couldn't even bring herself to feel fear at the consequences of what she had done, of the box of Pandora she might have opened.

She could have danced all night.

With him.

In his arms.

Joseph.

She still didn't know what it was. She only knew that she wanted this. Wanted to do it again. All night.

Dancing with Joseph. His hand holding hers, spinning her out, spinning her in again, cradling her body against his, yet never breaking the rhythm of their dance. There had been no need to ask for the steps or figures. She knew. He knew. They communicated without words.

What was it that had drawn her to Joseph so strongly today, the pull of the sensual music? She had always loved this particular piece, feeling every flick and turn of the melody sending a shiver up and down her spine. But it had never enveloped her like this, never trapped her in a web in which her senses ruled.

Her senses had been overwhelmed by the sound, the smell of his cologne, the sight of him – devastatingly handsome in his usual black attire – all of this had quickened her breath and sent her thoughts into a whirl. But the touch of his hands, the feel of his lean, hard body almost intimately pressed against hers, that was it – that had caused the sudden but oh so delicious tightening in her lower abdomen.

She could have done this all night. All night of this breathtaking feeling. His arms around her, holding her securely but at the same time opening a new world of danger and excitement.

She should really go to sleep. Who knew what tomorrow brought? It would not do for the queen to look like she had entertained a sleepless night. The maids would certainly notice her drawn face and the shadows beneath her eyes. Gossip would be rampant.

Should I care? Clarisse asked herself as she stared into the slowly dying flames in the hearth. Should I care? Would I care?

No, she would not. In fact, she wanted to go down to the ballroom again.

Of course, Joseph would not be there. It was well after midnight now and every sensible person not on duty would be asleep by now. She should as well, but tonight Clarisse didn't feel sensible.

She could have danced all night. Down in the ballroom. With him.

They wouldn't need to turn on any lights. Even if it was completely dark, they would find their way. With Joseph as her guide, she could never stray.

All of a sudden, Clarisse turned sharply and made her way to the door of her suite.

She didn't know what it was. Couldn't explain what it was. Didn't even want to know. It didn't matter.

She felt drawn to the ballroom, as if it seductively beckoned her. Down the empty hallways she went – faster and faster – until she almost broke into a run. The lure of the ballroom became stronger with each step. It was like a promise of more flying, more colours swirling, more of this dangerous excitement to envelop her.

How she wanted this. She wanted to dance all night. With him. With Joseph.

When she reached the ballroom she was almost breathless, her heart pounding furiously in anticipation. She opened the door quietly and her heart missed a beat. And then another.

Slow, intimate music wafted through the cavernous room. It wasn't loud, but it filled the room completely with its sensual intensity. The moonlight cast parts of the floor in full darkness, while eerily alighting others. Clarisse's eyes were drawn to the lone figure halfway in shadows and halfway in light.

He was poised to dance – as if he only waited for his partner to step into his arms.

Or did he imagine one?

Just like she would have done?

Without warning the man turned and their eyes locked. His face betrayed no emotion. Neither did hers. They needed no such thing anymore. Their eyes had taken over communication.

He would have danced all night as well. With her.

As the current piece of music came to a close, Joseph extended his hand. Finally, a smile formed on Clarisse's face. She took his hand and with two small steps was in his arms.

The position was much closer than any other they had ever danced in and yet it was all they could have ever wished for. Their bodies were fully pressed against each other, as if they were an entity, not two separate people. Warmth began to spread; it enveloped them, entranced them to the cocoon that began to be spun around them: music, moonlight and the closeness that included both their bodies and their souls.

Another tango began. They barely registered what it was, following the rhythm almost unconsciously. All the couple was aware of were their entwined hands, the shivers caused by the sweet friction of their bodies moving against and with each other, the warm breaths on the skin.

They could dance all night like this.

Could it be that making love felt like this? The thought shot through Clarisse's mind at some point as their movements stopped for a moment. Could this sensual, warm and all encompassing swirl of sensation, this addictive vortex of delight be what making love felt like? She didn't know – could only hope, for this was what she wanted more than anything.

It was a long time before the moonlight gave way to dawn. The couple on the dance floor, firmly locked in each other's arms and lost in each other's eyes, could not care less. Soon the consulate would awake for another busy day, filling the rooms and hallways with hectic activity, but the couple paid the fact no heed.

It didn't matter what music was played. They never lost their hold on each other. They were lost in their own world where only the sensual rhythm of the music existed and the sensations they created in the other.

They didn't know what it was. They didn't ask.

All they knew was that when they began to dance with each other, they could have danced all night.

And they did.

* * *

And now for the usual: Please let me know what you think. It really helps me to go on with my other stories. Thank you.  



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